


necropolis

by Voidromeda



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Corpse Desecration, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Necrophilia, Nudity, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 05:22:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19311481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voidromeda/pseuds/Voidromeda
Summary: 'Paranoia has its perks,' J.D thinks while he stares at his handiwork on the bed. It is almost admirable how she almost fools him, but he wins in the end. He just has one last 'hurrah' to give before he heads out to cleanse the world of Westerburg high.





	necropolis

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I hope it's clear that J.D is not meant to be a good person in this fic.

Paranoia has its perks, J.D thinks to himself with no small amount of amusement. Veronica lays motionless on her bed while blood spreads and stains the blue blanket. He ducks out and hides near her window when her parents come rushing up after he places his gun next to her, waits until he hears her mother force her way in and start _screaming_ because Veronica -

“Oh my god – Veronica I’m, I – I should have let you – oh my God, Ronnie, Ronnie!” Mrs. Sawyer cries out, her distress as clear as the bright blue sky in the morning, and J.D tries not to be too loud as he huffs in amusement. “No, no, no, oh my god. Oh my god.” she shuffles around in the bedroom and he peeks in to catch sight of her grabbing the gun only to drop it immediately, her face hidden away thanks to his limited vision, but he can see her surveying everything around her.

The attempt at a noose, the gun on the floor, the blood seeping into the bed, and she shrieks and screams and runs downstairs to her husband. It won’t be long before they call the police and have her body taken away, so J.D climbs back in once the coast is clear so that he can grab her body for himself and swipe his gun back. She is so light, always has been; she doesn’t eat enough, nor does she exercise enough, and he thinks that if she does she will be able to run a marathon.

But that means she will be able to run away from him, and her light body means that he can carry her away so that she doesn’t leave him – not just yet, at least. He cradles her in his arms in spite of the blood seeping into his coat and shirt and climbs out the window, shimmying around to drape her across his shoulder before he then tries to slowly – agonizingly – climb down the ladder.

He hears the continued panic – only vaguely – when they realize her body is gone and he is quick to drape her onto the back of his bike and try to strap her in to keep her from falling when he drives them away. A brief touch on her reveals her still warm, and she will be for a while – and it is beautiful, really, to see her so still and completely obedient for once.

She is obedient, no doubt about it – she is amazingly obedient before they punish Kurt and Ram accordingly, though with a bit of rebelliousness glinting in her eyes that drives him crazy. It is a shame that that shine is gone, but he loves her like this as well; she is back with him, even if under… less than fortunate circumstances. They come to a stop at an abandoned shack near the school. Her body is frail, her wound still bleeding out onto him as he lifts her up, and he duly notes that he needs to wipe the blood off of his motorcycle before it dries up.

Her body is limp, frail in his arms, and he presses a kiss to her cooling forehead. Her wide-open eyes stare through him, her lips partway open, and J.D’s heart skips a beat. He squeezes her body in his arms before he heads off to the river nearby to strip her and clean her body up. Thankfully, there is only urine that he has to clean off of her lower body and he throws her sullied clothes into the river. He runs his hand through her hair, feels the silky strands slide in between his fingertips and stroke him teasingly so, and he bites his lower lip.

Bending down, J.D presses a kiss to her parted lips and breathes into her mouth while he kisses her. She is, of course, unresponsive to his kiss and he can’t help but moan, his tongue slipping out to stroke across the walls of her mouth and rub against her own slick muscle. Her saliva is going to dry up soon, he imagines, and he angles her head so that it is easier to make-out with her. He rubs his tongue against hers, strokes along the roof of her mouth and then manoeuvres the muscle away to try and get at the little nook beneath.

His breathing is heavy now, his body going hot, and he grabs Veronica’s naked, wet body and places her on his lap just so that he isn’t at an uncomfortable angle anymore. He holds her up as she tilts backward with one hand on her back and the other a tight fist in her hair, and he shifts. His hips stutter upwards on instinct when he shifts her around and his bulge presses against her soft, naked crotch, and J.D sucks in air through his teeth.

As tempting as it is, he can’t do this when he is out in the open. Despite how dark and late it is, he can’t risk it. He holds her bridal style as he rises up, his coat getting wet not only with blood but now with the river water, but he can’t bring himself to care when he takes in Veronica’s shocked, aghast expression. She still looks so normal, so beautiful, and he only has hours before the rigor mortis sets in and her body is ugly and bloated like a puffer fish.

He heads back to the shack, the water making everything feel heavier as it soaks into his clothes, and J.D shoulders his way in. He holds onto her one-handed as he swipes some stuff off of the table to his right, all of the tools clattering noisily on the floor before he sets her down and looks around the little shack. He thinks he sees a blanket or two, and a bag full of sawdust that he can use to prop her head up. He sets about trying to clean the shack up enough for what he wants to do, his arousal throbbing between his legs for a few minutes before the busywork lowers the want simmering in his body.

Veronica deserves the best, after all – even if she is nothing more than a body going cold on the table, her organ systems and glands unresponsive – and he grins crookedly at his handiwork. It isn’t the best – he doesn’t have candles or rose petals, no silk sheets or heart-shaped pillows, but he makes do with what he has and turns to look at Veronica.

Her head faces away from him and he grabs her by the chin to roll her face over to him. Her eyes pierce through him, all the intelligence and life from them gone, and J.D shudders. The waning arousal comes back full force and a new need drives him. He hastily dries her off, lingering a bit near the hairs around her crotch before he wipes that dry too.

There is probably some lube around that he can use as substitute and he finds his claim to ring true after a bit of searching. It isn’t really industrial lube, which means that some sick adult or teenage fucks use this place as a hidden little fuck house. He bets it on being for horny teenagers, but he chucks that thought aside – they will all pay for being so filthy, soon enough, but he has more important things to worry about.

He places her down onto the makeshift futon and rests her head upon the bag of sawdust. He pushes her mouth shut but keeps her eyes wide open before he strips himself bare as well and settles in between her pliant legs. He rubs circles on her inner thighs with his thumb, bites his lower lip, and then dribbles lube all over his need.

Just one last hurrah before he cleanses Westerburg high, and then he will give her back to her doting, lovely parents with a gift. He shudders.

Veronica lays there with her accusatory, dull gaze burning holes into him, and J.D can’t control the wide, painful smirk that spreads on his lips. His cheeks ache, his eyes widen, and a new hot rush runs through his blood and alights him anew.

“I really, really did love you, Veronica.” he confesses to her, one final comfort to the dead girl before he settles in and takes what belongs to him for one last time.

 

 

Before school begins that Friday and the sky is still dark with fleeting night, he drives nearby to her home and places her naked body in the Sawyer’s backyard. There are police tapes all around, a car sitting nearby, and J.D bemoans the fact that he won’t be able to see the aftermath. He rearranges her so she is laying face up on the grass, closes her eyes, and doesn’t mess with her beyond that. He strokes down her front with his gloved hand, lingers near where white drips out of her, and then kisses her one last time before he runs back to his bike.

He has a bomb to set up, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Pillowfort. ](https://www.pillowfort.social/transistor) | [ Tumblr. ](https://transistories.tumblr.com/) | [Twitter.](https://twitter.com/EmptyHeartLover)


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